


I'm Not Joan of Arc

by RoseThornhill



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 03, UST, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 09:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThornhill/pseuds/RoseThornhill
Summary: When Scully has an anxiety attack, Mulder comforts her.





	I'm Not Joan of Arc

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own anxiety, the anxiety of a lot of other Philes, and the song "Joan of Arc" by Madonna. Set early in the series, maybe season 3.

She gulps down the last few sips of her coffee as she enters their basement office, then goes straight to the coffee machine and pours herself a fresh mug. Mulder has a slide show ready to go. She hasn't had enough coffee yet.

 

"The middle of nowhere, Nebraska," Mulder starts. There are mutilated cow carcasses on the screen. Scully groans to herself and chugs her coffee. Apparently the groan wasn't to herself, and Mulder turns to her. "Do you have something you want to share with the class?"

 

"I haven't had enough coffee for this," she grumbles, then refills her mug.

 

"What's wrong Scully?" The dry sarcasm in Mulder's voice was replaced by genuine concern.

 

"I'm fine. I just... haven't been sleeping well. Or at all," she admits.

 

"Go home, get some sleep," he urges her, but she shakes her head.

 

"No, it's fine." She drinks her coffee and turns her attention to the cows. "Mutilated cows aren't exactly an FBI matter. How did you get Skinner to go along with this case?"

 

He eyes her for a moment before returning to the projector and clicking to the next slide: a young woman in a field, similarly mutilated. "Because Abigail Johnson was found yesterday with the same wounds, and not a shred of evidence at the scene. No footprints or drag marks to or from the scene. No fingerprints, no fibers or stray hairs. No blood spatter; hell, there wasn't even any blood. It was as if she was just dropped from the sky onto this spot." Mulder's eyes twinkle just a bit whenever he suggests alien interference. Normally Scully finds it adorable; today she is just annoyed by it.

 

"So we are headed to Nebraska," Scully says as she finishes her coffee. "I'm going to need more coffee."

 

***

 

She wakes with a start and looks around, confused. Mulder is beside her, and he looks worried. Probably because she has his arm in a death grip. Then she remembers. They are on a plane, heading to Nebraska, checking in on the cow mutilations that have spiraled to humans.

 

"Scully. Do you want to talk?" he asks softly.

 

"No, not really," she says, busying herself with the case file. He put his hand on hers, and their eyes meet. His say, _I'm here for you_. Hers say, _I know. Thank you_.

 

***

 

Scully went through the motions of the case. She and Mulder went to the crime scene, spoke with the local officials, examined the body. Mulder suggested putting off the autopsy until tomorrow - he could see that she wasn't in the right frame of mind to make scientific observations.

 

By dinner time, Scully couldn't remember a thing from the day. Everything was a haze as she went to dinner with Mulder. A dark little roadhouse next door to their motel, peanut shells on the floor, and rowdy customers drinking too much beer.

 

"You know, you'd think that I wouldn't want a hamburger after all the mutilated cows we saw today, but I think it may make them taste better." He notices she hasn't touched her veggie burger, and has only nibbled a couple of her fries. "Want a bite?" he asks, offering his burger to her.

 

Scully wrinkles her nose adorably and shakes her head. "No thanks. I'm just not very hungry."

 

"Are you sure that veggie burger hasn't turned you off food?"

 

"I think I'm just tired. Do you mind if I go back to my room?"

 

"No, not at all. Go on, I'll settle up here." He is worried about her, but knows better than to press her. Even as she left, he noticed a slow, downtrodden rhythm in her step.

 

He finishes up his dinner and stops by Scully's room on the way back to his. She answers in a robe, and her eyes are puffy. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

 

"No, I was just getting ready for bed. What's up? Did the sheriff get back to you?" She honestly didn't remember if the sheriff was supposed to get back to him; it's just usually an appropriate question.

 

He presents her with a cookie he bought for her at the roadhouse. "I thought, in case you get hungry later..." She takes it and repays him with a weak smile. He hesitates, then finally asks: "Scully, is everything ok?"

 

"Yeah Mulder, I'm fine. I'm just... tired."

 

He knows that isn't the whole truth, but doesn't want to push her. "You can talk to me about anything. _Anything_ ," he implores. "You know I would never think less of you for anything you had to say." He touches her arm lightly and stares deep into her eyes. She is surprised at how reassuring his little gestures can be.

 

"Thanks, Mulder. I'll be okay. Thanks for the cookie." With that, she fades back into her room.

 

Mulder goes back to his room and settles in for his typical evening of beer and channel surfing. A strange noise meets his ears, and he mutes the TV. It sounds like crying. He peeks out the window into the parking lot, but finds nothing out of the ordinary. Then he realizes it is coming through the paper-thin walls.

 

Scully is crying. He isn't sure what to do; she wasn't a crier. But the sniffles turn to sobs, and he is worried. He had never heard her cry like this before, a cry that came from someplace deep inside her. Mulder debates with himself: do I give her privacy, or do I check on her? After a few minutes, when the tears show no signs of abating, he finally decides to check on her.

 

He knocks gently on the door, afraid of startling her. "Scully, are you ok?"

 

Her sob chokes off suddenly, and he could almost hear her trying to pull herself together. "I'm fine Mulder. What is it?"

 

"Nothing. I just... I heard you crying and I wanted to make sure you were ok."

 

She sighs and takes a moment to compose herself. She may as well let him in. But when she opens the door, and sees his concerned puppy-dog eyes, she starts crying again.

 

Mulder wastes no time. He envelops her in his strong arms and holds her.

 

"I'm sorry, I don't know..."

 

"Shh. It's ok," he whispers. They sit on the bed and she cries.  He holds her silently, occasionally rocking her or stroking her hair. Eventually, her sobs subside. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

 

She shakes her head vehemently, and Mulder is at a loss. He doesn't know what else he can do. He just knows his partner, his best friend, was hurting, and he doesn't know how to stop it.

 

She finally speaks up, almost as if sensing his confusion. "It's not that there isn't anything to talk about... I just can't really pinpoint it. I have had bouts of generalized anxiety disorder before," she said, slipping back into clinical Scully mode. "They've just never been this severe."

 

He brushes a lock of red hair off her cheek, stuck to her skin from the stream of tears. Embarrassed, she pulls away. "I must look a fright."

 

"It doesn't matter how you look," he tells her, looking her deep into her eyes. "It's just me here. You always look beautiful to me." Scully blushes and looks away.

 

"Thanks for checking in on me. I really appreciate it," Scully said, sensing Mulder might want to go to sleep.

 

But he doesn't. "No way. You've got a jumbo chocolate chip cookie there, and I don't think you will feel better until you share it with me." She smiles shyly and the two partners split the cookie while watching a ridiculous monster movie on TV. Mulder's snarky commentary even elicits a few tentative giggles from Scully.

 

***

 

A movement beside her wakes Scully suddenly. Before she could reach for her gun - purely by instinct - a familiar voice calms her down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

 

"It's ok," she mumbles, but her ease is short-lived when she realizes it is morning and she and Mulder are in bed together. "Mulder! What-- um..."

 

"We fell asleep," he reassures her. She looks down and sees they are both fully dressed, and are atop the blanket. "You were having a rough night."

 

Scully feels a blush rage across her face as she remembers her tears last night. "I'm sorry about that..." She was back to putting up her defenses. She doesn't know how else to behave.

 

"Well it seems all you needed was a handsome, strapping man to sleep beside you," he teases. She smiles and relaxes a little bit. He takes a breath and tilts her chin up so he can look her in her eyes. "You know, you can tell me anything." She nods, but doesn't offer anything else.

 

"I know that you feel like you have to be extra-tough to make it in the 'boys club.' But not with me." She tries to pull away, but Mulder holds her eyes fast. "You can tell me anything, Dana." She smiles when he uses her first name. She understands that he is trying to point out that they went beyond just work friends, but it still feels weird.

 

She is determined to shower and get the day started, but she feels that wave of anxiety crash over her, constricting her chest, and a flood of tears threatening to release. She settles back against him gingerly. "Will you... will you just hold me for a little bit longer?"

 

"As long as you want," he says, pulling her close.

**Author's Note:**

> The chorus of Madonna's song "Joan of Arc" always make me think of Scully:
> 
> "I don't wanna talk about it right now  
> Just hold me while I cry my eyes out  
> I'm not Joan of Arc, not yet  
> But I'm in the dark
> 
> I can't be a superhero right now  
> Even hearts made out of steel may break down  
> I'm not Joan of Arc, not yet  
> I'm only human"
> 
> Any thoughts, good and bad, are appreciated. As I was writing, I felt like there may have been something I was leaving out. I'm not a "case" person, and I am not one for writing MSR smut, but any suggestions are welcome.


End file.
